


The Moment Between

by mistysinkat



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4143588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistysinkat/pseuds/mistysinkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen and Dorian have been separated from the rest of the group and find themselves in a very desperate situation. Cullen discovers the lengths Dorian will go to in order to protect him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moment Between

**Author's Note:**

> Another sad one. I tend to hurt the ones I love, apparently. Sorry, guys. This was written for a "sort of" prompt. I was wondering if angst prompt memes exist, and someone suggested I turn "normal" prompts, like a good night kiss, into angst. So I did.

Cullen breathed deeply, sword rattling in his shaking hands. The battle was finally over. As far as he could tell, he was miraculously in one piece, but it had been a close thing. Too close. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he struggled to calm his racing heart. That pride demon – it had appeared almost out of nowhere. There was no time to react.

Cullen had been sure his surprised gasp was going to be the last breath he took in this world… until the barrier was cast around him, of course.

“Dorian,” he’d breathed in relief. They’d been alone out there – separated from the group. The two of them had been fighting desperately to keep each other alive, and he welcomed Dorian’s protection now.

But this barrier was… different. It was menacing and harsh, warping and boiling around him.

It was waves on waves of deep, angry crimson.

Cullen watched as the pride demon pounded at the red shell that surrounded him. Once, twice, and the barrier began to give. He wasn’t worried now - the moment of safety had given him time to prepare. He raised his shield and steeled himself for the moment he’d lose the cocoon that protected him.

But that moment never came. The commander watched as tendrils of the same shimmering crimson snaked into view, wrapping themselves around the demon.

And pulled.

The demon’s scream of rage and pain shook the ground with its ferocity before those wickedly red tendrils ripped it apart. For a moment, red was replaced with green as the demon’s blood rained down in torrents. Cullen watched it running down the barrier that still surrounded him, transfixed by the patterns made as it cascaded down in rivulets across the red terrain of his barrier.

Something wasn’t right. The demon was dead and Cullen was fine, but that power – this barrier – that wasn’t the way Dorian’s magic  _felt_. At least not to him. This power was hateful and sharp where Dorian’s usually felt secure and soothing. And those tendrils. Something about them was just… wrong.

_No, this isn’t Dorian’s usual style. This… almost feels like…_

He suddenly thought of Kirkwall. The mage rebellion.

And Orsino.

Anger flared in the commander’s chest, fierce and raw. And wasn’t there more than a little fear fueling it, too? Furious, Cullen turned on his heels as the red barrier finally flickered and disappeared.

“DORIAN, WHAT DID YOU  _DO_?!” he raged at the man who shared his bed. “WHAT DID you…. do….”

The words faltered and stopped. The fury pounding in his temples died as quickly as it had sparked.

Red. So much red. It ran over everything, leaving its vile mark in its wake. His arm. His cloak. His face. Pooling around him. There was Cullen’s whole world, covered in red.

“No!” came the strangled cry as the commander’s legs finally remembered their purpose, allowing him to move again. His shield and sword clattered as they hit the stony ground. They’d been useless to prevent this.  

“No!” he repeated as he saw Dorian fall to his knees, eyes wide and bewildered. The mage was rubbing his bloody arm, desperately trying to put the red back. It ran out of him in rivers; there was no stopping the flood.

Cullen reached Dorian just as the man gave in to the pull of gravity. On his knees now, Cullen gathered Dorian into his arms. He reached for the arm the mage had been gripping and his stomach turned.

The cut was deep and clean. Dorian’s dagger was sharp and well-cared for, despite the fact that it was rarely used.

“Dorian,” Cullen’s voice was a low husk, “Dorian, why?” Rough fingers stroked ashen skin that had, only an hour ago, been the color of warm caramel. “Why?” he repeated.

The mage chuckled weakly.

“That was… a rather large… demon,” he managed, “I may… have been… a little overzealous…. not really… a blood mage.”

Dorian stumbled and faltered over the words, voice barely reaching above a whisper.  

“Then, Maker, WHY?”

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t… protect you otherwise. It was… a rather large… demon,” Dorian repeated, managing a wan smile that quickly faded. “Oh, Cullen…. I messed up. I messed up.”

“Shh. Stop.”

“I can’t stop. I’ll never… I’ll never have another chance…. I have to tell….. you,” the words became smaller as they crossed Dorian’s lips, “All this time… since the beginning… I’ve loved you. I have… always… loved you.”

The words struck him in a way no physical blow ever had. Cullen’s throat constricted and his eyes burned. Memories, sweet and bitter, rose to the surface of his mind.

…The first time the light shifted, and Cullen’s view of Dorian changed…

…The first time Dorian recognized his awkward attempts at romance for what they were, and how he’d laughed his musical laugh as he took the commander into his arms…

…The first kiss, and the feeling of Dorian’s soft lips on his own scarred set, and the carnal  _need_  of it all…

…The times they’d shared each other’s bodies, and the way Dorian looked when his pleasure was reached, dark and beautiful and all his…

…The laughter as they lay in each other’s arms afterwards, safe and warm and happy …

…The moment Cullen realized he loved this maddening man from Tevinter…

…The bitterness at Dorian’s frightened evasions when Cullen finally shared his feelings…

_And now I know. All that time, he loved me, too. All this time we were in love._

_We were in love._

Nausea washed over the commander. His jaw worked violently as he struggled to maintain control of his sorrow. Because he had to. For him. For Dorian. He took a breath and smiled down at the man dying in his arms.

“I love you. I love you, you frustrating, beautiful man,” he choked, “And I will go on loving you until we’re all just names in some dusty history book on a shelf,” Cullen smiled through the tears that he couldn’t hold back.

Dorian sighed and reached up, cold fingers brushing Cullen’s cheek, thumb stroking the tears away.

“Poetry. I should have…. told you… sooner,” Dorian wheezed as his brows knit together, “It, it won’t be long. Amatus, I’m cold…. and… and I’m scared. It’s so dark,” the mage’s voice trembled and broke as his mouth pulled back in fear and sorrow. Cullen took Dorian’s hand, kissing the palm before holding it against his chest.

“Shhhhh. I’m here,” the commander’s voice was strangled, despite his best efforts to comfort and soothe, “Just… oh, Maker, be with me… just relax. Go to sleep, love. Just go to sleep.”

Dorian’s lips turned up into a beautiful, haunting smile.

“Then… then kiss me good night, my lion.”

Cullen pulled the mage closer and gently brushed his lips against Dorian’s for the last time.

The moment between life and death passed, and Dorian was gone. 

The place where Cullen’s heart had been was left ragged, raw and bleeding. He raised his head, tears streaming from glassy, vacant eyes. Heartache, intense and pure, bubbled up from that empty place in his chest as he took a deep breath of the cold mountain air and howled his heartbreak into the winds.


End file.
